It's Friday, 5 June 2020, and after a period of more than two months of lockdown, during which the people in the Netherlands were encouraged to stay home as much as possible, all restaurants and cafes, universities, schools and daycares, and most shops were closed, and most of our professional and social life was conducted via video calls, it is possible once more to go out and have breakfast or lunch on the beach. The Covid-19 pandemic is still raging around the world and is having a devastating impact on the economy of most - if not all - countries. We're told to expect the worst recession in a century, which is making me nervous because if there's one thing I've learned from the 2008 financial crisis, it is that if bankers fuck up, budget cuts to higher education are to be expected sooner or later. Meanwhile, the United States of America are being rocked by large-scale demonstrations, sometimes violent, against racist police violence after a police officer in Minneapolis pressed his knee against the neck of a black man for more than 9 minutes during an unnecessary arrest, thereby choking him to death. Unfortunately, the death of George Floyd is one in a long line of such murders and other disproportionate violence against black people by American police officers and it has not only sparked outrage in the USA, but there are demonstrations all around the world - the Black Lives Matter movement seems to be gaining momentum globally, not in the least because the outrage people feel when watching the incompetence of the current American president, Donald Trump, to deal with the demonstrations and riots following the death of George Floyd. Back in Europe, Great Britain has left the European Union and is bullshitting its way through the negotiations for a new relationship with the European Union - and an outcome in which the economy will suffer only more seems most likely.
Things, in other words, seem to be reaching a boiling point - which is true for my workplace too. I've been working from home since before the lockdown started in the Netherlands, because universities closed already earlier. The first few weeks were fine, as I had enough on my hands, having to move our entire programme online (all my former colleagues had disappeared because of burnouts or other reasons over the course of December and January, leaving just me and hastily hired temporary lecturers to take care of the programme). Then, the ennui set in and with daycare and school closed, and having to homeschool my 6 year old daughter while also caring for Billy Stormzy, and keeping the online lectures going at my job, as well as making sure our study programme would survive the disappearance of most of its staff (I've never negotiated so furiously in my life about basically everything, from what kind of colleagues we would hire as replacements, to my own wage), life was mostly a constant series of anxieties - which may sound exciting, but having to do it all from home made it mostly just dull.
But here we are, nevertheless, Billie Stormzy and me, on a bike. Billie Stormzy's thick brown curls - unusually long for a baby his age - are blown by the wind. It's a stormy, rainy day, but he doesn't seem to mind. When we went for our last breakfast on the beach, Billie Stormzy couldn't even sit up. Now, he's already crawling around, he's gotten his first teeth and he really enjoys sitting in front of me in his child's seat, cycling around.
We stop at the last beach club at the southern end of the Scheveningen Boulevard, Strandclub Wij. A girl at the door sprays disinfectant on my hands and asks me if I have any symptoms indicating a possible infection with Covid-19 (dry cough, fever, sour throat) - all restaurants have to do this now, as well as ensuring that their patrons don't sit too close to each other. The girl tells me I can sit anywhere I like, as long as I don't sit next to someone else and Billie Stormzy and me make our way to a table.
A cheerful waiter asks what I want to drink and I order a mint tea (€3,90) and ask for the menu. Billie Stormzy sits next to me on a pleasant couch and is extremely cheerful, bopping his head enthusiastically and throwing everything in front of him - his toys, a napkin, my phone - to the floor. As it falls down, he looks on curiously and is delighted by the noise that things falling down make. The waiter brings my drink and I study the menu, which has the sympathetic "Less I*More We" as a slogan on top of it. I decide on the Wij-burger (€15,50), as at 13:00 it is more lunchtime than breakfast, and anyway, breakfast is not served after 12:00.We're quite late because Billie Stormzy's sister is still only going to school in the afternoon since the children are taught in shifts as a precaution against the spread of the Covid-19 virus. In the morning, we're still supposed to homeschool her.
Billie Stormzy has calmed down and leans on me, now chewing contently on my telephone instead of throwing it on the floor for effect. Every once in a while he makes a cheerful, satisfied noise. I put my arm around him and read a little. On the sound system, chilled out cover versions of hits from the 1980s and 1990s are playing: George Michael's "Careless whisper", Jennifer Paige's "Crush" which manage to maintain their brilliance in these lush lounge reworkings. Outside, kite surfers are riding the waves, taking advantage of the windy weather an showing off those impossibly high jumps that always have me holding my breath when I see them at it. It must be amazing to be able to do that, just shooting what looks like five to ten meters up in the air, using a steep wave as springboard. I've set my aims as low as learning stand-up paddle boarding one of these days, but I like to think that if I were young, I could take this up (I probably wouldn't have, though, knowing my younger self and his inability to pursue anything for very long without getting bored).
Strandclub Wij is all black and white, with tinges of gold: white wooden floors and walls, black furniture, with some gold ornaments here and there. I would define its aesthetic as the kind of cheap decadence that was a bit of a style about ten to fifteen years ago, but hasn't totally gone away since then, with plenty of places around here adhering to it.
Lunch is brought and I'm quite happy with my Wij-burger. The meat is tasty - albeit a bit too raw for my taste - and it comes on good bread, with the obligatory pickle, salad and tomato, melted cheese and a nice cocktail sauce. I eat with knife and fork - I'd have trouble with eating this with my hands at the best of times, but last Thursday I had an apicoectomy on one of my front teeth leaving me somewhat unable to bite off anything. It's a tough surgical procedure at the best of times, but considering that I had to go to Groningen for it and then travel back by train made it even worse. You're supposed to put ice on your lip afterwards, and I bought some frozen spinach for that at a supermarket close to the railway station, so there I was, in a train smelling of antiseptics, compartmentalised by plastic sheets to prevent the spread of the Covid-19 virus, with a plastic bag containing frozen spinach pressed to my swollen upper lip.
Having finished my lunch, I prepare a bottle for Billie Stormzy. We gaze out over the sea as I give him his milk, but he's not very thirsty. Afterwards, I put on his coat, put on mine as well, and ask for the bill. Time to go home, maybe sleep a little and then pick up Billie Stormzy's big sister from school.
Also on Breakfast at the Beach: Jump back in time to when Rihanna Gaga and I visited this place in 2014 (in fact, that was the very fist blogpost ever for this blog!)
Things, in other words, seem to be reaching a boiling point - which is true for my workplace too. I've been working from home since before the lockdown started in the Netherlands, because universities closed already earlier. The first few weeks were fine, as I had enough on my hands, having to move our entire programme online (all my former colleagues had disappeared because of burnouts or other reasons over the course of December and January, leaving just me and hastily hired temporary lecturers to take care of the programme). Then, the ennui set in and with daycare and school closed, and having to homeschool my 6 year old daughter while also caring for Billy Stormzy, and keeping the online lectures going at my job, as well as making sure our study programme would survive the disappearance of most of its staff (I've never negotiated so furiously in my life about basically everything, from what kind of colleagues we would hire as replacements, to my own wage), life was mostly a constant series of anxieties - which may sound exciting, but having to do it all from home made it mostly just dull.
But here we are, nevertheless, Billie Stormzy and me, on a bike. Billie Stormzy's thick brown curls - unusually long for a baby his age - are blown by the wind. It's a stormy, rainy day, but he doesn't seem to mind. When we went for our last breakfast on the beach, Billie Stormzy couldn't even sit up. Now, he's already crawling around, he's gotten his first teeth and he really enjoys sitting in front of me in his child's seat, cycling around. We stop at the last beach club at the southern end of the Scheveningen Boulevard, Strandclub Wij. A girl at the door sprays disinfectant on my hands and asks me if I have any symptoms indicating a possible infection with Covid-19 (dry cough, fever, sour throat) - all restaurants have to do this now, as well as ensuring that their patrons don't sit too close to each other. The girl tells me I can sit anywhere I like, as long as I don't sit next to someone else and Billie Stormzy and me make our way to a table.
A cheerful waiter asks what I want to drink and I order a mint tea (€3,90) and ask for the menu. Billie Stormzy sits next to me on a pleasant couch and is extremely cheerful, bopping his head enthusiastically and throwing everything in front of him - his toys, a napkin, my phone - to the floor. As it falls down, he looks on curiously and is delighted by the noise that things falling down make. The waiter brings my drink and I study the menu, which has the sympathetic "Less I*More We" as a slogan on top of it. I decide on the Wij-burger (€15,50), as at 13:00 it is more lunchtime than breakfast, and anyway, breakfast is not served after 12:00.We're quite late because Billie Stormzy's sister is still only going to school in the afternoon since the children are taught in shifts as a precaution against the spread of the Covid-19 virus. In the morning, we're still supposed to homeschool her.
Billie Stormzy has calmed down and leans on me, now chewing contently on my telephone instead of throwing it on the floor for effect. Every once in a while he makes a cheerful, satisfied noise. I put my arm around him and read a little. On the sound system, chilled out cover versions of hits from the 1980s and 1990s are playing: George Michael's "Careless whisper", Jennifer Paige's "Crush" which manage to maintain their brilliance in these lush lounge reworkings. Outside, kite surfers are riding the waves, taking advantage of the windy weather an showing off those impossibly high jumps that always have me holding my breath when I see them at it. It must be amazing to be able to do that, just shooting what looks like five to ten meters up in the air, using a steep wave as springboard. I've set my aims as low as learning stand-up paddle boarding one of these days, but I like to think that if I were young, I could take this up (I probably wouldn't have, though, knowing my younger self and his inability to pursue anything for very long without getting bored).
Strandclub Wij is all black and white, with tinges of gold: white wooden floors and walls, black furniture, with some gold ornaments here and there. I would define its aesthetic as the kind of cheap decadence that was a bit of a style about ten to fifteen years ago, but hasn't totally gone away since then, with plenty of places around here adhering to it.
Lunch is brought and I'm quite happy with my Wij-burger. The meat is tasty - albeit a bit too raw for my taste - and it comes on good bread, with the obligatory pickle, salad and tomato, melted cheese and a nice cocktail sauce. I eat with knife and fork - I'd have trouble with eating this with my hands at the best of times, but last Thursday I had an apicoectomy on one of my front teeth leaving me somewhat unable to bite off anything. It's a tough surgical procedure at the best of times, but considering that I had to go to Groningen for it and then travel back by train made it even worse. You're supposed to put ice on your lip afterwards, and I bought some frozen spinach for that at a supermarket close to the railway station, so there I was, in a train smelling of antiseptics, compartmentalised by plastic sheets to prevent the spread of the Covid-19 virus, with a plastic bag containing frozen spinach pressed to my swollen upper lip.
Having finished my lunch, I prepare a bottle for Billie Stormzy. We gaze out over the sea as I give him his milk, but he's not very thirsty. Afterwards, I put on his coat, put on mine as well, and ask for the bill. Time to go home, maybe sleep a little and then pick up Billie Stormzy's big sister from school.
Also on Breakfast at the Beach: Jump back in time to when Rihanna Gaga and I visited this place in 2014 (in fact, that was the very fist blogpost ever for this blog!)
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten